


I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus.

by Tribbs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Both of them are big softies., Cas and Dean are good dads, Cas cries whenever Jack cries, Christmas Eve, Daddy Dean, Domestic Fluff, Don't sue me I'm poor, Fluff, I need insulin., I've got diabeetus because I wrote this fic., Inspired by a Christmas card, It's @cupofteegan's fault., Jack is Castiels biological son, M/M, and his mini me, its a little early for xmas sue me, papa cas, parent destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 09:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16870357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tribbs/pseuds/Tribbs
Summary: Jack is four now and he is very excited, because tomorrow is Christmas and he has been a good boy for Daddy and Papa.Santa pays a visit and things are going well until Jack walks in on something he clearly wasn't meant to see. Daddy is kissing Santa Claus!Cue tantrums and tears, from children and adults alike.Inspired by a Christmas card posted by @cupofteegan on Twitter.





	I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! *waves*  
> This fic is inspired by a Christmas card that @cupofteegan posted on Twitter. (I posted it as artwork so you can see it)  
> We both wanted to read a fic based on the image, and lamented the fact that there wasn't one. So I said "F*ck it, I'll do it myself."  
> So here it is. You are welcome.
> 
> Merry Christmas!

 

 

 

 

**I saw Daddy kissing Santa Claus.**

 

 

Jack couldn't sleep, he sat up in his big boy bed and toyed with his stuffed bee, aptly named Bee-bee, running the springy antennae through his chubby fingers as he resisted the urge to call for his Daddy and Papa again.

Papa had told him that he had to be a good boy or Santa would leave coal in his stocking. Jack didn't know what coal was, but it didn't sound as good as Lego's or a bike. Jack really hoped that Santa brought him a bike. Now he was four and a big boy, Daddy had said he was old enough to get a bike like the one Papa rode to work on. Jack had promised he wouldn't touch Papa's bike again after the chain had pinched his finger when he played with it. It had hurt a lot and there had been blood and Jack had cried when Daddy yelled at Papa for leaving his bike in the foyer. Papa had been very upset too, he had put a bandage on Jacks finger and snuggled him tight until they both stopped crying. Daddy had kissed them both better and made hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles and they had all snuggled under a blanket on the couch and watched a movie.

Jack wondered how he would actually ride the bike (if Santa left it) as when Jack had sat on Papa's bike one time with Daddy's help, he hadn't been able to reach the pedals or the handlebars. Maybe the bike would be smaller? Jack hoped so. If he got a bike, maybe he would be able to go to work at the hospital with Papa in the mornings instead of going to kindergarten. Making sick people better sounded like more fun than going to kindergarten. Although he hoped they still got cookies and milk at snack time, that was the best part of the day in Jacks opinion.

He hoped that Santa liked the cookies and milk he had left on the table by the front door. Daddy said it was the best place to leave it because the didn't have a fire place like in the movie they had watched. Papa had suggested they leave some carrots for the reindeer too, after all, they had a hard job to do, flying around the whole world pulling a sleigh filled with toys. Jack had suggested that they should wait up on the roof so they could feed the reindeer themselves, like at the petting zoo, and Papa had laughed as Daddy looked scared and said no. Papa explained that Santa would feed the reindeer, they might get scared by strangers like Uncle Sam's dog, Bones. Poor Bones was a scaredy cat and liked to hide under uncle Sam's desk most of the time. Plus it was dangerous on the roof, Daddy said. Santa and the reindeer had magic to stop them falling off and Jack didn't, so don't even think about climbing up there. Jack didn't think he could get up on the roof without Papa or Daddy anyway, it was too high, even higher than uncle Sam and he was a giant.

 

Hearing voices in the hallway outside his bedroom, Jack quickly laid down and pulled the covers up under his chin, just in time for his door to open. He closed his eyes tight and let out a few snores to help convince his parents that he was a good boy so they wouldn't tell Santa he was still awake.

Hearing his Daddy chuckle, Jack risked a peep and saw Daddy's silhouette in the doorway. He could hear sleigh bells and Christmas music coming from the den down the hall.

“Oh, it looks like Jack is a good boy after all, Santa. He went right to sleep like we asked him to. I guess he'll be disappointed he didn't get to meet you though. What a shame.” said Daddy, with a sigh and a sad look.

Jack gasped. Santa was actually here! He'd managed to fool Daddy that he was actually asleep and so now he might miss out on meeting Santa. Jack decided that maybe he should wake up from his pretend sleep, so that he could meet Santa and they would still think he was a good boy.

Jack opened his eyes and sat up, with a wide fake yawn. “Daddy, I was asleep, but now I'm awake, can I see Santa?” he asked sweetly.

Daddy looked like he was trying not to laugh. He crossed his arms and considered Jacks request.

“I don't know. Will you go right back to bed afterwards, like a good boy?” he asked, stepping into the room.

Jack nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Daddy, I promise.” he said, already scrambling out of bed, his pyjamas twisting up around his body.

As he ran towards the door, Daddy stopped him.

“Hey, kiddo. Lets get your robe and slippers on first, okay? Its chilly tonight.” he said softly.

Jack shook his head, that would take too long. Santa might have to leave before Jack got to see him, he had a lot to do tonight, after all.

“I don't need it, Daddy.” he said, impatiently trying to push past to get out of the door.

Daddy pulled him back gently and straightened his pyjamas. “Slippers and robe first, okay? Santa will wait for you.” he reassured. “Look, I'm already wearing mine.” he said, gesturing to his own pyjamas and robe with matching slippers.

Jack huffed and stomped back over to his bed where his robe was hung on the bedpost and his slippers were lying haphazardly on the rug next to the bed.

Jack squirmed impatiently as Daddy helped him into his robe and made sure his slippers were on the right feet, for once they were and Jack bolted for the door as soon as they were on and the Velcro was fastened.

“Slow down, Jack. I don't want you to fall.” Daddy called after him. Jack ignored him and tore off towards the den, his heart racing with excitement at actually getting to meet Santa.

 

Bursting through the door before stopping dead in the middle of the den, Jack stood wide eyed and open mouthed at the scene. Santa stood in the den holding a half eaten cookie and a half drunk glass of milk, the carrots for the reindeer were stuffed in his pockets and there were lots of presents under the tree. Jack thought there might be a million of them or even more, he wasn't sure. Jack could count to twenty at kindergarten, and this looked like more than that, so it was probably a million.

“Santa” he breathed, his eyes filling with tears. “You're really here.” he said, his throat thick with emotion. He was really here. With the red suit and the big black boots and the enormous white beard and everything.

Santa stepped back in surprise. “Jack Winchester. Your Daddy and Papa said you have been a good boy this year, so I decided to meet you and see for myself.” he said, his voice was very deep, just like Papa's voice.

Jack nodded, and squirmed feeling shy suddenly. His lip trembled as he held back tears.

Daddy stepped into the room behind Jack. “Hey, buddy. What's with the tears? Did you get a little too excited?” he said scooping Jack up into his arms and squeezing him tight.

Jack nodded. “Yeah.” he whined as he began to sob. Daddy and Santa shared a soft look over Jacks head as Jack pressed his face into his Daddy's neck and gripped tightly to his robe. He immediately felt better.

“Hey, it's okay, little man. We all get a bit overwhelmed sometimes. It's fine.” Daddy soothed, swaying side to side like he had when Jack was a baby. “Do you want to sit with Santa now? I think he'll share his cookies and milk with you. You will won't you, Santa?” asked Daddy softly.

Santa sat down in Papa's favourite chair and patted his lap. “Sure, come on Jack, You can tell me how you and Daddy made the cookies for me.” he said encouragingly.

Jack nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve. When Daddy put him back down on the floor he ran and jumped on Santa's lap, giggling when Santa let out an “oof” sound just like his Papa did when Jack jumped on his lap.

Settling down against Santa's soft tummy, Jack accepted a cookie from Santa as Daddy wiped away the tears and snot from his face with a tissue.

“There, that's better.” said Santa, helping Jack take a sip of milk from his glass.

 

Jack forgot about the tears and babbled excitedly. Telling Santa about he and his Daddy making and icing the cookies, even though Daddy had to help Jack with the icing because it was really hard to get it on the cookie and he hardly got any on himself at all. But Papa had to help him in the bath because he got some icing in his hair and he doesn't get bubbles in Jacks eyes like Daddy does.

Santa listened patiently as Jack described his finger injury and looked misty eyed at his plans of going to work with Papa everyday if he got a bike.

Daddy had gone into the kitchen to check on something baking in the oven, he had to make a lot of food because uncle Sam was coming tomorrow and Daddy said that if they weren't careful, he would eat them out of house and home. Jack didn't think that even uncle Sam could eat a whole house and he said so, making Daddy laugh really loud. Grown ups laughed at really weird stuff sometimes.

 

Jack giggled when Santa's beard tickled his face and he petted it.

“I like your beard. My Papa grew a beard on holiday once, it was spiky and scratchy, but I liked it. Daddy said he liked it too, but Papa said he had to shave it off because he makes people better in a hospital. I think his beard was scratching the sick people and you have to be careful not to hurt them when they are poorly. Yours is soft. Maybe if my Papa's beard was soft he would be allowed to keep it.” said Jack, digging his little hands into the white cloud on Santa's chest.

Santa chuckled. “Perhaps your Papa will grow another beard the next time you all go on holiday.” he said softly.

Jack sat up and looked around. “Where is my Papa? He should be here.” he asked, looking worried.

Santa tried to reassure Jack, but Jack was already calling out.

 

“Papa! Papa, come meet Santa! Papa, where are you?” he called out, looking around.

 

Daddy came through the door to the kitchen, he had a glass of wine in his hand and smile on his face.

“Papa had to go check on something, he'll be back in a little while.” he said, reassuringly.

Jack tilted his head to the side. “Will he be back in time to meet Santa?” he asked, concerned that his Papa was missing out.

Santa ran a hand over Jacks head soothingly. “Probably after you've gone to bed, little one.” he said softly.

Jack pouted. “Aww. That sucks.” he whined. “Can I open my presents now?” he asked, his eyes lighting up even as he yawned widely.

Santa chuckled. “Not until morning. You want your Papa to be here too, don't you?” he asked, pointedly.

Jack slumped. “Oh. Yeah, I guess.” he said looking disappointed. Daddy and Santa laughed again.

“Speaking of going to bed. It's time for good boys to go back to sleep.” said Daddy, placing his wine glass on the coffee table as Jack whined. “Do you want me to help you wash the cookie off your face or can you do it yourself?” he asked.

Jack gave his Daddy an indignant look. “I can do it myself, Daddy. I'm four now, you know. I'm not a baby anymore.” he said grumpily. He climbed down from Santa's lap and headed for the bathroom. He paused at the door and looked back. “Hey, Santa. Don't go nowhere just yet, okay? I wanna say goodnight.” he asked, his wide blue eyes were pleading.

Santa stood up and adjusted his belt on his big belly, it was a little lop sided now, which was weird.

“I wouldn't dream of it, Jack. I'll be right here when you get back. Just make sure you get all the icing off your face and brush your teeth.” he said, wagging a finger.

Jack grinned. “I will.” he promised and ran to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

 

************************

 

As the bathroom door closed, Cas sighed with relief. He lifted the hat and wiped his sweaty brow.  
  
“I'm melting in this thing. It's your turn next year, either that or we break it to him that Santa isn't real.” he chuckled.  
  
Dean laughed. “It was your bright idea, Santa. One of your best, I'll admit. Did you see his little face? Oh my God, Cas, he was over the moon.” he said, sipping his wine.  
  
“I nearly broke character when he started crying though. I hate it when he cries.” said Cas, looking heartbroken.  
  
Dean stepped towards his husband and straightened his hat and wig. “I know you do, you big softy. He just got overwhelmed, this is the first Christmas he really understands and he can participate in properly. I promise, we haven't scarred him for life.” he reassured.

Cas chuckled. “He's gonna love his new bike. Not sure how he's going to take it that he can't come to work with me at the hospital though.” he said ruefully.

Dean sighed. “God, he's just so cute. I damn near melted into a puddle when he said that. We'll explain that he has to finish school before he can be a doctor. I think the doctor play set you got him will soften the blow.” he said wrapping his arms around Cas' neck and dropping a kiss onto his husbands nose.

Cas placed his hands on Deans hips and squeezed possessively. “And what do you want for Christmas, Dean?” he asked suggestively.

Dean arched an eyebrow. “Hmmm. Shouldn't I be sitting in Santa's lap when you ask me that question?” he flirted back.

Cas tugged the beard down under his chin and gave Dean his best smoulder. “Once Jack is asleep, I think I can arrange that.” he said huskily.  
  
Dean laughed. “I never thought a Santa suit would do it for me, but here we are.” he said, pecking Cas on the lips. “Once Jack is asleep, I can give you my present. One hint, I'm wearing them.” he said with a suggestive smirk as Cas' mouth dropped open.  
  
“The red ones?” said Cas, a little breathlessly as he ran his hands over Deans hips.

Dean shrugged. “It is Christmas, after all.” he said with a wink. “Now, kiss me under the mistletoe like you mean it, you big dork.” he said, looking above them to where the mistletoe hung from the ceiling.

Cas grinned and kissed Dean, making his husband gasp as he groped his ass at the same time. Dean sighed and deepened the kiss before letting out an embarrassing squeak as Cas dipped him into an old fashioned movie kiss. His slippers flying off as he almost lost his balance, he relaxed as he realised that Cas was holding him securely and would never let him fall.

 

“Daddy....?” came a small unsure voice from the doorway.

 

Horrified, Cas and Dean broke the kiss and Cas spun away to adjust his beard as Dean turned to see a very confused and tearful little boy who was glaring daggers at Santa, his little fists were bunched and he shook with anger.

“Heeeey, Jack. Did you brush your teeth? It's time for bed, little man.” said Dean, trying for nonchalant.

It didn't work, his heart sank as Jack burst into tears. “I don't understand. I want my Papa!” he wailed.

Dean rushed forward to scoop his son up from the floor and reassure him, but Jack fought him as he was picked up. He thrashed and squirmed as Dean desperately tried to comfort his hysterical son.

“Shhh! Jack. Jack, it's okay. It's okay little man.” Dean soothed. But Jack just wailed louder.

“I want my Papa! Papa!” he sounded broken hearted.

Cas buried his head in his hands, he was clearly on the verge of tears himself at his sons distress.  
  
Dean looked guilty as he struggled to hang on to his son who was screaming for his Papa. He turned to his husband with a devastated look on his face. “Uh, Santa? I think we need a new plan.” he said, with an edge of desperation.

Cas stepped forward and reached for Jack, who recoiled. “No! I want my Papa!” Jacks tantrum was in full sway now. He was a sunny child for the most part, and tantrums were rare, but when they happened they were spectacular.

Cas ripped off the beard and hat with the attached wig and reached for his son again.  
  
“Jack. Jack it's me, look it's Papa. I'm here.” he soothed, as Jack screamed and then went silent in shock.

 

“Pa-pa?” he hiccuped, rubbing his eye with his tiny fist.

 

Cas smiled softly. “Yeah, it's me, I'm sorry we scared you, little one.” he said, lifting the tired little boy from his husbands arms. He pulled him close and rocked him gently, rubbing Jacks back until the little hitched breaths began to settle.

Dean watched his husband and son as they swayed, mortified that Jack had been so upset at what he had seen.

Cas murmured gently in his sons ear and kissed his head gently. He looked over and met his husbands eyes with a look of pure guilt and shame.

“Looks like we managed to scar him for life after all.” he said regretfully, still swaying and rubbing his sons back.

Dean shook his head. “Cas, babe. He'll be fine. I hate that he's upset, but it's not the end of the world. He's overtired and full of sugar, his reaction was bound to be a little extreme.” he said, approaching his husband and son and wrapping his arms around both of them.

Jack whimpered and snuggled further into Cas' chest. “Papa, I want Bee-bee.” he whined.

Dean smiled down at his son. “Hey, bud. How about you go with Papa and get tucked into bed with Bee-bee, and I'll lock up and then join you for a story? Does that sound good?” he asked softly.

Jack sat up in Cas' arms, and stared at both of his fathers. “Okay.” he said in a small voice, his expression was confused.

Cas produced a tissue and began wiping his sons face. “What's the matter, little one? Do you have questions?” he asked, gently dabbing at the snot and tears.

Jack squirmed. “Papa, are you Santa? I thought you worked at the hospital?” he said, his little face was a mirror of his fathers.

Cas looked panicked for a moment as he scrambled for an answer that wouldn't destroy Christmas for his son.

 

“Uh, yes. Yes I am.” he said slowly, looking at Dean for help. Dean just shrugged and mouthed wordlessly that he had no idea what to say.

“So that was you at the mall?!” Jack squeaked. “But you and Daddy were there with me, how can you be in both places?” he demanded, looking suspicious.

Cas cringed. He was a terrible liar and it always came back to bite him on the ass. Dean finally stepped in to save him.

Pulling Jack around to face him. Dean smiled and caressed his sons cheek. “What Papa means is, that right now he is Santa. All Daddies and Papa's have to take turns at being Santa, and it's Papas turn right now. The Santa you saw at the mall was someone else's Papa when it was his turn.” he explained gently.

Jack screwed up his face as he considered Dean's answer. “So, one day you will be Santa?” he asked hesitantly.

Dean laughed as Cas grinned and nodded. “Yeah, little man. Papa already told me it's my turn next year. Don't worry, we have it all figured out ahead of time.” he said with a chuckle.

Jacks eyes went very round as it sank in and he whipped his head around to face his Papa.

“Papa, where are the reindeer? Did you leave them on the roof? Can I meet them?” he begged, his eyes were pleading.

Cas groaned. “Uh, they've uh, gone home. Yes, that's it. This was my last stop of the night and they dropped me off before they went back to the north pole. Isn't that right, Daddy?” he said, looking at Dean desperately.

Jack looked disappointed as Dean nodded. “Yeah, sorry little man. It's way past bedtime for reindeer and little boys. It's even bedtime for Daddies and Papa's. But the good news is, you will probably sleep in a little later tomorrow. Maybe even past six am.” he joked as he dropped a kiss onto his sons head.

“I wouldn't count on it.” Cas mumbled giving Dean a look that said he thought Dean was crazy for even suggesting the possibility.

“I'm gonna lock up and switch off the lights and stuff, take him to bed and I'll be in in a few.” said Dean, kissing his husband on the cheek and heading off to lock up.

“I want Bee-bee.” whined Jack, clearly worn out from the excitement. He rubbed his eyes and yawned widely.

Cas pulled his son close into his chest and patted his back. “Okay, little one. Lets go get your Bee-bee and tuck you into bed. Do you need the potty before you go? Be honest.” he asked moving towards the hallway.

“A little bit.” admitted Jack. “But I'm too tired, Papa.”

Cas chuckled. “Don't worry, I'll help you.” he reassured as they left the room.

 

Dean put the wine glasses in the dishwasher and switched in on before checking the coffee machine was set for the morning. Cas was a mess in the mornings and Dean wasn't much better. Since having Jack, they'd both had to make a massive adjustment to their morning schedules and having fresh brewed coffee first thing helped them cope with a lively four year old.

 

Switching off the main lights, Dean took a moment to admire the Christmas tree and the strings of lights hung up around the room. It looked so cosy and domestic, he could hardly believe this was his life. When he and Cas met they were both veterans, Cas from the air force and Dean from the army. Both had scars beyond the surface and more baggage that an airport carousel. But they had both healed and made a life together that had value and worth.

When Cas had proposed, Dean had been floored, literally. He had passed out from shock that the man that he loved more than anything but couldn't keep a secret to save his own life, had managed to set up an elaborate proposal that included a flash mob of all of their closest friends and family and a marching band playing Led Zeppelin tunes as confetti and streamers rained down from above.

It was one of the happiest days of his life, even if Sammy still ragged on him about his manly fainting fit and the tears that came after, whatever. It's not like Sam didn't turn on the waterworks at the wedding, the big moose cried throughout the ceremony, not even manly tears but big gasping sobs that drowned out the vows that he and Cas had worked on for weeks. The jerk.

Cas had cried buckets when Jack was born. He'd originally just agreed to be a sperm donor for their friend Kelly Kline, but an accident had put her in a coma during the last month of her pregnancy. She died not long after they had delivered Jack by caesarean, having never regained consciousness. So Cas had stepped up and agreed to raise Jack himself, being his biological father had made the process of taking him home from the hospital smooth and easy. Cas had cried the first time he held Jack, convinced he would hurt the tiny baby in his big hands by accident. He had been utterly gone on his son from the first moment and he still was. Dean hadn't hesitated either and had formally adopted Jack not long after and together they were a family.

 

Reluctantly, Dean switched off the string lights and the tree plunging the room into near darkness, lit only by the light in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He did one last sweep to make sure the house was secure and headed off to Jacks bedroom.

He paused at the door with a soft smile. Cas was perched on the edge of Jacks bed, he had shed the Santa suit and was dressed in a sleeveless tank that showed off his tanned muscular arms and loose cotton pyjama pants with a unicorn and rainbow pattern. The pyjamas had been a gag gift from Sam, but it had backfired when Cas had actually loved them. The dork.

Jack lay on his tummy with his stuffed bee under one arm and was mostly asleep, his eyelids fluttering as his breathing became deeper and slower. Cas was gently running a hand up and down his son's back in a way that had soothed Jack from a tiny baby.

“Hey, guys. Room for one more?” Dean whispered, chuckling as Jack merely raised an arm and patted the other side of his bed to indicate where Dean should sit. Cas gave Dean one of his lazy half smiles that still made his tummy flip even after all these years. Dean slid onto the other side of the bed and ran his hands through Jacks hair soothingly.

“Jack decided he doesn't want a story. He has another request.” said Cas, biting his lip. “Why don't you tell Daddy what you wanted instead, Jack?” he asked, his eyes twinkling as he held back laughter.

 

Jack mumbled into his pillow.

 

Dean frowned. “What was that, Bud? I couldn't hear you.” he said, looking at Cas in confusion.

Jack lifted his head, his expression adorably grumpy. “I asked Papa if I could have a baby brother or sister instead of a story. He said that not even Santa can bring those.” he looked very annoyed about it.

A surprise laugh burst out of Dean before he could stop it and he looked over at Cas for help to see that he too was laughing, although he was doing a better job of doing it quietly.

“Uh, I'm not sure that we can get you one of those anytime soon, baby. Papa and I will talk about it and we'll see about maybe a brother or sister in a few years, Okay?” said Dean, trying not to panic.

He looked over at Cas who was smiling fondly and showing no signs of the same panic he was feeling. It made him relax a little as he realised that Cas was actually considering it.

Jack huffed with annoyance. “Okay.” he said with a grumble. “Daddy, when you are Santa next year, can you bring me a dog?” he asked sweetly.

Cas was the first to break this time, he let out a deep chuckle that shook the whole bed as Dean scowled at him like he had betrayed him.

Dean narrowed his eyes and looked at his son. “Nice try, kiddo. But no. No dogs until you are older.” he said, firmly.

Jack pouted. “That sucks.” he said, before flopping back down onto his pillow. “Papa, rub my back again.” he demanded.

Cas immediately obeyed his sons command. Running the flat of his hand up and down Jacks back until he began to drift off again as Dean and Cas stared at each other lovingly.

Jack fell asleep just like his father, heavily and suddenly. Just like Cas, he could sleep through anything once he was out. Dean had always been envious of that particular skill.

 

Wordlessly, Cas and Dean worked together, tucking Jack in and turning on his night light before slipping silently from the room and across the hall to their own room. Closing the door, Dean leant against it and sighed heavily.

“Well, all in all, I'd say that went well.” he quipped.

Cas paused as he removed the decorative pillows from the bed and gave Dean an incredulous look.

“Really? So, after traumatising our son, possibly scarring him for life and almost giving me a heart attack in the process, you think it went well? He said, grumpily.

“No, Cas. I was being sarcastic, you dork.” said Dean, rolling his eyes as he pushed off the door to help Cas turn down the bedsheets.

Dean pulled the blankets back and then shrugged off his robe and threw it onto the chair on his side of the bed. Kicking off his slippers he dropped onto the bed and flopped backwards with an arm over his eyes and his legs hanging off the edge.

 

“So, Jack wants a brother or sister, huh? I wonder what gave him that idea?” said Dean, questioningly.

 

Cas lifted his arm and landed an upside down kiss on his husbands brow. “No idea, kindergarten? Or one of those Christmas movies you two have watched perhaps? It's not a terrible idea though, what do you think?” asked Cas, trying to sound nonchalant but the slight crack in his voice gave him away.

Dean crawled up the bed and laid back on the pillows with his knees in the air. “I never thought about it to be honest.” he admitted. “But, now I am, and I kinda like the idea. I mean, we have the money, time and space for another kid. How would we even go about it though? Adoption? Surrogacy? It's not like I can pop a kid out, like, ever.” he said, thinking aloud.

Cas chuckled and laid down next to his husband. “Could be fun trying for one though.” he joked, running a hand up Deans leg as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Dean smirked. “Pervert.” he grinned. “Seriously though, you want another child? You really think we can do it?” he asked, seriously.

Cas sighed. “Before Jack I never even considered having kids. Now, I want a dozen. I'd be happy with just one more though. And yes, I think we can do it. Apart from the mess we made of tonight, I think we're pretty good parents.” his smile was wide and his eyes were bright in the gentle light of the bedroom lamps. “Lets do it. Lets have another child.” he said, excitedly.

“Awesome. We'll figure out the details after Christmas. I can get Sammy to help me research the best route to go, either with adoption agencies or surrogacy.” said Dean, happily. “Oh my god, Cas. We're really gonna do this.” he squeaked, laughing as his husband rolled on top of him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

Cas adjusted them both until he lay between his husbands thighs, propped up on his elbows so he could look into Deans eyes. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas' neck and sighed happily. “Merry Christmas, Cas.” he whispered.

Cas smiled softly. “Merry Christmas, Dean.” he said, his voice deeper than usual and slightly husky.

Dean arched an eyebrow as he caught the lusty look on his husbands face. “Oh, all this talk of being a Dad again gets you hot, huh? Someone has a breeding kink. I'm game if you are. You're gonna have to unwrap me to get your gift though, Santa.” he teased.

Cas rolled his eyes. “ _You_ get me hot, you idiot.” he laughed. “Now, I want my present.” he demanded, kissing Dean deeply and tugging at his clothes impatiently as Dean responded with enthusiasm

 

“Daddy! Papa!” a little voice called out from across the hall.

 

Cas groaned and dropped his head onto Deans chest as Dean sighed with frustration.

“I changed my mind. No more kids.” Cas said ruefully, into Deans pyjama shirt.

Dean laughed. “Nuh-uh. No take backs, babe.” he said, pushing Cas off so he could sit up. “I'll bring him in with us tonight. That way, we might get _some_ sleep at least.” he said as Cas whined.

 “Fine.” said Cas grumpily to the ceiling, as he sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed. “But Sam can babysit this weekend and I get to unwrap my gift then.” he said with a sulky pout.

Dean chuckled as he pushed his feet into his slippers. “You got it, babe. One dirty weekend, comin' right up.” he winked.

 

An hour later found the little family all fast asleep in the big bed, Cas and Jack both lying on their backs, one arm above their head and the other down their pyjama pants, identical even in sleep, and Dean lying on his front, drooling into his pillow as the snow fell silently outside the window.

 

 

The End

 


End file.
